


Milestones

by sugarspuncoeurls



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff and Smut, Kaidan Porn Week, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 17:37:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4755176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarspuncoeurls/pseuds/sugarspuncoeurls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That’s how they work: he kisses her forehead, she smacks his ass, and at the end of the day, it’s the same show of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Milestones

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My (admittedly late) contribution to KPW. Fluff, humor, and of course, smut. Hope y'all enjoy :)

She likes these kinds of moments. Hasn’t had a lot of them; obvious, given her reputation, butcher of this, savior of that, Commander Fucking Shepard and all the implications that go with the title. She’s used to big moments, _boom_ moments, the kind that tend to be a bit life-changing. There was the day of her adoption, the day she enlisted, the day she crawled out of that god-forsaken jungle and casually suggested they change that six in her rank to a seven. There was Torfan, and Saren, and Cerberus, and....

Yeah, a lot of moments, all pretty significant in their own good and admittedly shitty ways.

This moment isn’t like those. It’s normal, for one, which is nice enough. But it’s also soft, sweet, and a whole lot of other words she didn’t think she’d ever get to make much use of again, thanks to the current state of the galaxy.

And the company helps, too.

Picture: a quiet _Normandy_ night post-mission, late enough that everyone’s more or less settled down except for the skeleton crew, and also late enough that the good Major was able to make his way up here to the loft with minimal fuss. Everyone (on the ground team, at least) knows about them by now; tipsy time in Anderson’s apartment apparently gave her a wagging tongue. Fortunately, their “technically less-than-sanctioned relationship” hasn’t made it into the weekly gossip column, probably thanks to the Major himself. However much she might tease him about his professionalism, it comes in handy when he boards the elevator late during the night cycle. “Business,” either Alliance or Spectre, is what most think he’s heading up for. And that _is_ the reason, most of the time. What happens after that business is done is just bonus.

Tonight happens to be bonus night. Oh-two-hundred hours finds them both temporarily freed from their duties and holed up in her small shower, tired and sore but satisfied after a hard day’s toils. The Alliance-issue soap has already done its job, left them in desperate need of moisturizer but otherwise squeaky clean. Now they’re just stalling, taking a rare chance to indulge in the heat of the water and each other.

Or trying; it’s never been easy, getting her head to slow down. It’s even worse now, walking into her cabin to a brute-sized pile of datapads and knowing that _some_ one has to take it on. She’d rather face the real thing; it’d at least be more fun.

The Major, though? He’s got her. He knows how to hush up her thoughts and sink them down into that really great place she loves to be in, where everything’s warm and affectionate and a wee bit misbehaved. Against the near-burning cascade of water, his hands slide over the dark, soaked skin of her back, blunt nails teasing just shy of the payoff that’s a few inches lower, his breath playing over her neck as he rests his forehead against her temple. He’s doing that hum thing he likes to pretend he doesn’t do, a toneless little rumble that makes her want to curl into his chest like a cat or a particularly well-behaved varren. Or _would_ make her want to, if not for the adrenaline of the day still lingering in her bloodstream, enough to keep her awake and at least relatively alert, enough to make that rumble of his less soothing, more stirring.

Thank God for bonus nights, right?

When Kaidan’s fingers finally cross the threshold of her hips and make that last little slide into the region of her ass, she realizes what he’s trying to do. In the same moment, his arms tighten and that little sound of his comes again, soft vibrations that resound in her ear and make her knees quiver the slightest bit.

 _We can shower again, right?_ she thinks. _We can definitely shower again._

One thing her former subordinate (and current superior) is good at: anticipating her ideas, half-formed as they usually are. When she leans up hard on her toes to reach his mouth, he’s waiting for her, a chuckle passing his lips just before she pushes it back in with an eagerness he was effortlessly prepared for. Her arms drape across the breadth of his shoulders, her hands grip his neck to keep herself from dropping back onto her heels, and she absently wonders if this whole escapade would be easier with a stool when he nudges his hips forward and her belly is gently but tellingly bumped.

Ever prepared, like she said.

One of her hands releases his neck and smooths down the plane of his chest, black water-slicked hairs tickling the pads of her fingers as she aims for the apex of his thighs, rounded nails biting into his abdomen when he lets out a soft grunt and angles himself closer, hands kneading skin as they travel upwards, contrary to her own journey south. He cups her cheek right as she cups his balls, and they’re both too damn silly not to laugh at it, their mouths still pressed together between puffs of breath.

They work like that, sometimes: he kisses her forehead, she smacks his ass, and at the end of the day, it’s the same show of love.

Kaidan leans back into her, resting again against whatever part of her he can reach, his lips brushing the crown of her head. It doesn’t last, not when she’s so preoccupied with her new focus, when her other hand is moving to join the first and her body is following, a slow slide down the length of his torso while her mouth leaves a patchwork trail of concentrated heat in its wake. She hears a heavy-laden sigh as she goes, followed by the light _thunk_ of a head against the gray metal of the wall. A hand comes to rest on the wet mass of her hair, fingers gently tangling in water-sheened bunches, and tightening when her mouth finds his hipbone and sucks and her hand rolls between his legs.

From there it’s a mere matter of inches, but they make each one a kind of milestone, a landmark commemorated by the gradual shortening of his breath, the widening of his thighs and the silent little nothings she knows are issuing from his throat. When she glances up, he’s a vision of flushed skin and disheveled hair and half-lidded eyes shaded in that way that makes her want to take a picture for later use on a restless night alone.

No, it’s not a life-changing moment. But it’s a damn, _damn_ good one in its own right.

When she finally fits her mouth over him, the feedback is instant, his hips jolting forward and his back arching against the wall, the low, needy hiss through his teeth just barely heard over the shower spray. His thigh trembles under her hand, muscles jumping as he struggles to keep himself upright, to stop himself from sliding down the wall as sensation steadily takes over. She can’t blame him; in a lot of ways that first touch is the best, the first clear sign that you’re in for one fantastic ride.

She doesn’t know whether that sentiment makes her feel better or worse for the fact that she never gets around to the second.

* * *

 

He’s laughing.

It’s not an outright guffaw, but then Kaidan doesn’t often do those. His laughs are usually modest things, perfectly pitched and unassuming in volume. ‘Socially acceptable’ laughs, she tends to call them, just to get him to lift one of those thick eyebrows at her.

It’s quiet in her quarters, has been since they left the prune-inducing shower in favor of her dry bedroom. The only sounds to be heard are the filters of the aquarium, her hamster taking a turn on her wheel, and the soft beat of her stereo, turned down for the Major’s benefit.

Oh, and his giggling. She looks over her shoulder from her place by Captain’s little home, eyes on the slight tremble of his shoulders as he pulls on a pair of black briefs. She’s still in the buff, doesn’t see much point in putting on something that’s just going to be shucked off in a few minutes, nor does she have the right sort of underclothes to make those few minutes worthwhile. She doesn’t say anything to Kaidan, though; his butt does the tiniest little shimmy when he puts on any kind of bottom-wear, a sight much too good to waste on logic. When he rises to his full height and turns to face her, she wrinkles her nose at him. “You’re mean, you know that?”

“I wasn’t laughing at you,” he says, grinning and making his way across the room. “I was laughing at the situation.”

“I slipped on that damned floor and had my face rammed into your crotch.” Her brow lifts high. “Sounds to me like I _am_ the situation.”

He doesn’t answer. Rather, he stops at her back and makes to wrap his arms about her waist. She lets him, after a short second of half-hearted resistance, just enough to let him know she’s still grumpy. Hard to do, honestly, when he’s so doggone warm; the circulated air of the ship brings a chill to her skin, makes the heat of him at her back a precious thing, especially after losing the balminess of the shower. She inevitably leans back against him, notes the familiar feel of his dog tags indenting themselves into the line of her spine. “Sorry for laughing,” he finally says, planting a modest kiss on her shoulder. She snorts.

“Liar.”

“I’ll make it up to you.” He smiles into her neck and gently squeezes her leg. “You seemed distracted earlier.”

“I get philosophical at the worst times.”

“Ah.”

“Is that why you started groping me?”

Chuckling softly, Kaidan runs his palms over her waist and muscled belly. “I wouldn’t call it groping, but I thought it might help.”

“Good plan.” She closes her eyes and leans further into his hold. “Good plan on the ground today, too. Sure you don’t wanna lead the team?”

“Thanks.” He presses another kiss to her shoulder, then a longer, warmer one to the underside of her jaw. “And yes, I’m sure I don’t want to lead the team.”

“Seriously. I’m pretty sure you’re better at it. Leaders have plans; that’s you.”

“ _You_ have plans.” His palms skim over her waist again, tighten at her hips and stroke down the lengths of her thighs. “Good plans.”

She looks at him poised over her shoulder, takes in the sight of him shadowed by cool color and lowlight. She smirks. “You don’t know me that well, do you?”

He laughs. “I like to think I’m learning.”

He is. How else would he know that the number one way to grab and hold her attention is to hug her close and fondle her ass?

She can’t help the sigh that escapes when Kaidan gently grasps her chin and angles their mouths together. His chest is still shaped to her back, his arm wrapped tight around her middle, his body a cradle for hers. She lifts a hand that finds its way into his hair and tangles in curls still damp from the shower, and tugs him down to her height with enough force to get him chuckling again. When her mouth falls open, his laughter drops deep in his throat, low enough to make her toes threaten to curl.

…toes.

Hers are starting to cramp, too much time spent flexing them on metal floors in an attempt to grant herself a few temporary inches. They’re straining, growing number by the second, and she really doesn’t like the idea of their current mood being ruined (again) because Miranda failed to anticipate her project’s need for super-strength foot digits. She tries to signal to Kaidan by dancing a tiny two-step, the elevated heels of her feet brushing his ankles as she tries to keep her balance. For a moment, she thinks he won’t get the message, might misread and reckon she needs a bathroom break.

Silly her. There’s a reason he was the perfect Staff Lieutenant. Right before she goes to break their kiss and fix the problem herself, his arm drags across her belly and brushes right along the tender undersides of her breasts, and his hand releases her chin and rises to unwind her fingers from his hair. “Just a second,” he whispers into her mouth, just before he smoothly twists her around, drops his hands to her hips, and hoists her into his arms, her thighs bracketing his waist and his forearms cushioning her bottom. She grins, stroking her fingers into his shoulders.

“You knew.”

“That you’re short?” He teasingly furrows his brow. “Figured that out a good while ago, sweetheart.” He throws a minuscule glance over her shoulder. “Besides that, the hamster was glaring at me.”

As he turns them around and steps down into her bedroom, she tries to twist and see for herself. “Oh, yeah. It takes Captain a while to warm up to people.”

“Really?”

“…no.” She shrugs. “Guess you’re not her favorite person, Major.”

“Too bad. Is that going to be a deal-breaker for us?” Reaching the bed, he gently lowers them both to the mattress, though she keeps her legs locked around him. She grins.

“If you play your cards right? Nah.” Kaidan gives her a questioning smile.

“And how do I do that?”

“For starters?” Reaching down between them, she slides three fingers beneath the waistband of his briefs and pulls until they snap back to his skin. “Get rid of these.”

One thing she can say about the bed versus the shower: it’s more accident-friendly. Height-friendly, too. Stretched across her comforter, it’s easier to reach him, to navigate the scape of his body and find those waypoints of contact that make that fantastic flush run over his tan skin, heady as the sounds she tries to coax from his throat. Together they tug down his briefs, chuck them onto the floor, and return to where they began, pressed together and caught up in their own play. She doesn’t know what time it is; with her luck, it’s probably too late for them to be fooling around without compromising needed sleep. It’s hard for her to care all that much, though, when the Major’s got them rolled over, has laced their fingers and clasped their hands above her head, has coaxed her mouth open as the bed curves under their combined weight and she ends up shaped to the angles of his body, groaning as his tongue strokes her words and her worries and her _thoughts_ away. When his fingers start travelling, winding their way down the long chain of her body’s nerve endings to finally brush the hooded black bead of her clit, her brain shorts out completely but for a single resounding _fuck_ that echoes through her skull.

“Still with me?” Kaidan asks, his teeth nipping at her thick lip. She opens her eyes, meets his gaze and matches his smile, half-dazed with the coy sweep of his thumb.

“Barely.”

“Am I playing my cards right?” He flicks once and her fingers clench on his shoulders.

“Getting there.”

“Hm.” He indulges himself in continuing the path he’s laid out, brushes his lips over the dark peaked points of her nipples, down the landscape of her belly, to the crevice where her hips meet her thighs. By the time he reaches the heat of her sex where his fingers still teasingly roam, he’s settled himself contentedly between her legs and tugged her along with him, his knees poised on the floor and his hands running down over her own, following their bend over the bed’s edge. She lifts her head and grins. “That’s gonna get uncomfortable real fast, Major.”

“Maybe.” Grasping her ankles, he lifts, pulls, and situates her legs over his shoulders, grazes the sharp stubble on his cheek against the inner skin of her thigh until she shivers. He smiles at her. “Consider it compensation for our accident.”

She likes the way the Major does things, has she mentioned that? She likes the way he takes his time, the way he examines every angle of a subject before he implements a plan. Does she do that? Hell no, she doesn’t have the patience. But she loves that _he_ does, with his work, with his dealings with others, and especially with her. The first time he lay in her bed – if you could call it one, hard rock that it might as well’ve been – it was a half-frenzied thing. They had tripped on their discarded boots, his collar had gotten caught in his mouth on its way over his head, and their teeth had knocked painfully together more than once. After they had found their rhythm, though…that was when he had shown her just how much attention to detail he could give.

He’s no different now, years (or months, in her case) down the road. He knows her body, knows every possible way to make her vibrate with need, but he still takes his time, still runs soft, almost cautious fingers over her skin as if he isn’t already familiar with every scarred inch of her. He presses a strategic thumb to her slit, rubs until she lifts her hips, then shifts and slips just barely inside. Her breath stutters, catches, and holds, and she rises up on her elbows and waits with the same growing impatience that always has her throwing grenades over her shoulder to get the enemy going during a firefight.

He gets it. It makes him grin at her, the cheeky bastard, but he gets it. When he presses again, this time with a knuckle, he doesn’t stop; his finger slowly uncurls against her clit, makes an agonizing slide downward, and finally sinks in.

It’s all downhill from there. Or maybe uphill, ‘cos that’s really where she’s going, wound up tight as she is. The adrenaline from earlier is making her fidget, wriggle her hips in an attempt to get more, urging that single, precise finger to become two, then three. The Major obliges, as he always does, but he also does it when he’s ready, when she’s as tight around him as he wants, as wet around him as she needs. Milestones, you might say he’s looking for, just like the ones she looks for in him.

He finds them, after what seems like hours of careful climbing. His shoulders shift under her thighs as he comes forward on the bed, and his kisses along her skin become open, damp-mouthed things, full of biting teeth and sucking pressure. When his breath finds her, she tenses with a whine and catches his eye. “C’mon, Major,” she breathes. “Don’t leave me hangin’.”

He smiles, presses a kiss to her thigh like he would her forehead. “Never, ma’am.”

So good, the Major is. So, so good.

She tries to keep her eyes on him, primed as she is, ready to shoot off sparks like a hand-held rocket on fricking Independence Day. He’s the only thing keeping her from going out too quickly; he anchors her through the roll of his free hand on her breast, his toying with the white-gold ring piercing her nipple. He squeezes and tugs until it stings just enough to keep her hanging on even as his mouth finally joins his fingers in their task and claims her throbbing clit. It’s almost, _almost_ too much; her head falls back on her shoulders, her eyes squeeze shut, and her sight of the stars overhead is replaced by the stars bursting under her lids. Her hand blindly reaches out to grab hold of his hair, and she tugs again, a messy catalog of muted curses falling from her lips that’s really only half-coherent. He answers, though, lets her know he’s there, that he’ll _get_ her there, with a sharp twist of his fingers and that gentle hum, low and muffled by the barrier of her thighs and his own mouthful. As the pleasure ratchets higher, she uses the leverage she has in his hair to roll her hips against his mouth, and lets out a loud groan when Kaidan indulges her, opens his mouth wide to encompass everything, the flat of his tongue laving over her folds while his fingers pump harder. He takes his hand away from her breast to secure his hold on her, to guide her movements as they grow erratic.

 _Close._ She can feel it in the tremble of her limbs, the flush of warmth under her skin, in how ridiculously soaked she is. All she needs is one last push, one final milestone to take her over the edge. And she gets it, when Kaidan abandons the motions of his tongue and fits his lips around her clit. _Yeah, yeah, **yeah**_ , and she doesn’t realize she’s speaking aloud until her mouth is already open to release more as he sucks once, twice, too many times for her to keep up with because suddenly she’s _there_ , tensing, doubling over with her fingers still clenching his hair, then releasing it all with a jolt that makes her breath catch around a yell, turns it into a mess of stuttering noise she can’t control any more than she can control the orgasm roiling through her like the tidal waves she’s only ever seen in vids. Even the pitiful pint-sized eezo nodes attached to her nerve endings ignite, send little shockwaves through her system to add to the climax already bowling her over.

Moments after the largest wave’s passed, the aftershocks remain, tiny spasms firing through her limbs as she finally flops back on the bed, sweat-slicked and throbbing. She pants at the ceiling, lazy satisfaction already finding her as her eyes slide slowly open.

Through the dull roaring in her ears, she hears the shuffling of sheets, feels the indentation of the bed as a body sinks the mattress in. The next second brings the heat of another and a soft, sweet kiss that trails along her forehead, down the concave of her nose, and presses to her lips. She grins when Kaidan pulls away and makes himself comfortable at her side, his mouth wet and smiling.

“Thanks.”

He chuckles with an indulgent lick of his lips. “Anytime.”

“Say that and I’ll never get around to paying you back.” She rises up on her elbows and drags a hand through the frizzing afro of her hair, then looks at him. “Did I glow?” Kaidan lifts a shoulder.

“For a second. A very short second.” He tilts his head, tracing a hand over her cheek. “You really don’t have any control over it?”

“Not a one.” She snickers. “No biotic here, Major; just a soldier with a lot of guns.” Kaidan lifts an eyebrow.

“Don’t think you’ll ever be ‘just a soldier’, Commander, but whatever you say.”

“Flatterer.” She lifts her own hand and draws it down his chest. “Think you’ll do it?”

“What, glow?” At her nod, his smile widens and he shrugs again. “Maybe. It depends.”

“Too tight a cap on it?”

“Usually.” He tilts his head again, his eyes fondly following the lines of her body. “With you? Not as much.”

“Guess we’ll find out, huh?” With a heave and a gentle push of her hand on his chest, she switches their positions. Kaidan ends up splayed on the bed sheets and propped up by her pillows, his gaze amused as she takes her place between his legs and plays her hands along his hipbones. “Just hope I don’t end up ruining it again.”

“I don’t see you slipping on anything in here, sweetheart.”

“No?” Her grin turning toothy, she flicks the head of his erection with a finger; he lets out a surprised laugh. “We’ll call it a milestone when I do, then.”


End file.
